All Men Will Have Their Reward
by thieves-and-beggars
Summary: Losing someone, that's something we are all afraid of, but what most people forget is that there can't be lost without love. But what if losing that someone opened the door to a better future? (Rating might go up. OC gets paired with NO ONE. R&R)
1. Chapter 1

**HIIII! So, this is my first Les Mis story so please don't be too harsh. Besides my OC, the story will focus in Les Amis (just fyi :D)**

**I do not own anything other than my OCs and the plot of the story, everything else was created by Victor Hugo.**

**Reviews are highly appreciated and flames will be used to bake cupcakes.**

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I never thought my life would end this way. I can feel my feet on fire as if they were about to fall off, my heart pounding heavily on my chest. It's getting harder to breath by the second; I know I won't be able to go much farther. But it won't matter. Nothing matters now, we will die. I know it, and the blonde who keeps pulling me through the streets knows it. People let us pass, they don't stop us, do we mean so much to them? But it doesn't matter, it isn't long before they cut us off, there is nowhere left to run. Nowhere to hide, we know we will die. They say your life flashes before your eyes when this one is coming to an end. This is something I had never believed in, until now.

My name is Mallorie, I am seventeen years old. I wasn't born in Paris, I was born in a town not to far away, but I can't remember the name. My mother's name was Alianor, I don't remember much about her, or at least I try not to. Most people say my life hasn't been easy, but hers wasn't much better, that's how I feel at least. Like all young ladies she had a lover, he was handsome, smart, kind... Or at least that's what she said. She loved him, and according to her he loved her, but I never believed her, not then, and definitely not now. He left her; he told her his parents wanted him to join the French army. _He left her,_ she was pregnant, and she never told him.

Now you know where I come from, I am a poor bastard child, but that didn't have a mayor effect on my life. In fact only my mother, my father and I know. I'm not talking about my biological father, I mean the man I grew up it, I don't care all the men my mother -who I should mention was extremely beautiful- slept with, he was and will always be my father. I still remember how I felt when he disappeared, I was thirteen and my brother was five. We came back home from a day walking in the park about a year after my family moved to Paris and he was gone, like he had vanished into thin air. We lost everything, and I never understood why, all the people that used to look at us as higher beings now looked at us as equals, scum from the street. And soon we were.

I didn't have many reasons to smile after that, but my life still had little pieces of sunshine, it wasn't like for my mother. I never understood why she got sick, maybe it was all the cold nights or maybe it was just sadness. Either way, it wasn't long before life took her away from me with cold fingers. Now it was just my brother and me, but it wasn't much different, I was the one who brought the crumbs to the table since her illness overtook her. Finding a job wasn't easy, not as a girl, and even though I was nearly fifteen I knew I wouldn't sell myself. The solution to this problem was surprisingly easy, I sold most of my dresses, and my mother's and bought men's clothing. At home I was Mallorie but outside I was Alexandre. Work was easier to find then, food came to our floor more often, but my smile had almost completely vanished, and the only thing that could make it appear again was the little creature I was working so hard to feed.

He was happy, and if he was happy, I would be happy. We got used to our new life surprisingly fast, I had a new job, I would go work as a night messenger and I would come back to our tiny apartment in the morning. He would always try to wait up for me. I'd sleep a few hours and then I would take him out downtown, he liked to see the men that were fighting for our rights. I didn't understand them; I just thought they would all end up dead. But one day everything changed for me. It had been a cold night, colder than any I can remember; I came home waiting for him to run over to me, but no one did, he never did again. I wish he had told me he was sick, I guess he didn't want to put more pressure over my shoulders, but I wish he had. I miss my brother, more than anything, I owe him so much. Thanks to him I still believe that there is good in this wretched world, but he was taken from me. They took him from me. Thanks to him I met the man that made my life change its direction: Darcel Grantaire.

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**Yes, all Les Amis will have first names :)**


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't a particularly bright day, but I rarely got those lately, at least not since my brother died. The little apartment felt empty, when it was quiet I felt like I would hear his laughter any second, but that second never came. My arms wrapped themselves around my naked torso; I was undoubtedly skinnier than before, it was easy for me to count my ribs without even touching them. I found myself looking up to the only window in the room, it was only then when I realized I was still on the floor, I had been on the floor for a long time now. It was time for me to leave; this place would not belong for me for much longer. I allowed myself to look around the room once more; it was almost empty; I had sold most of our things not too long ago. All but one of the dresses that hung in my closet were gone, I don't know if I would be able to find a use for it where I was going, but it was hard to say goodbye.

A long, but barely audible sigh made its way out of my mouth. It was time to go. I reached for the bandage lying on the floor near me and started wrapping it around my torso. It wasn't hard for me to look like a man; I've never known how to feel about that. My chest was almost flat already but the bandage did help. This had been a part of my routine for a long time now, but my brother never liked it; He always said I looked prettier when I wore a dress. I still remember the last time I did. He had begged me to take him down town, he was perfectly capable of going on his own, but he said there was something I had to see. I closed my eyes as my hands shakily continued to wrap my torso, and I allowed the memory to flood my thoughts.

* * *

"Bassett!" I screamed after the little boy that was running down the main street. "Wait for me!" There were so many people, why in the world did he want to come today? It was hard to run in a dress, he should know that by now. I looked ahead of me, _so many people..._ Then it hit me. Of course he wanted to come today, he wanted to see them; the students. Bassett knew I couldn't care less about them, he knew what my feelings on the subject were. Why had he brought me here? I could feel my feet starting to burn slightly as I ran behind him, he was fast. After some agonizing minutes I finally managed to catch up with him and grabbed him by the shoulder making him stop. He was breathing heavily as well; I smiled when I saw the sweat crawling down his forehead. It was good to know that no matter how tiny he was, or how little he ate, he could still run like this. He smiled back at me when I crouched in front of him and pulled the hair out of his forehead.

"You promised you would go wherever I said!" He bolted shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He saw it in my face, it was clear that I didn't want to be here.

"Yes." I acknowledged. "But you never told me where we were going; you just ran and told me to follow you."

"Why don't you like coming to see them?" He questioned tilting his head just like the curious boy he was.

I had no answer for him. I could not tell him that I would do anything to join the students. That I would even consider leaving him, that's why I liked to stay away from this events; it would destroy him. Instead I gave him room for his hope, that hope that all kids hold in their hearts, to shine a little brighter. "Why do _you_ like it?" I inquired.

His smile only grew which made me sigh in relief because it meant he would soon forget the question he had asked me. "Because of the speeches!" was his immediate answer.

I raised my eyebrow at him. That was not the answer I was expecting. "The speeches? Why?" I asked, softly running my thumb over his cheek.

"Because... Because!" He laughed which made me laugh. "You've never heard one?" He questioned incredulously. He immediately started jumping and yelling: "You have to! You have to!" Then he turned around and started running towards the crowd.

I slowly stood up and watched him run for a moment. He was wrong, I had heard those speeches. Not many times, but I had. I smiled to myself thinking about those minutes, how my stomach would give a turn as my mind wandered to a million different places but my eyes never left the man in front of the crowd. I had never been close enough to take a good look at him; I didn't even know his name. All I knew is that he had blonde hair and his words could convince me of almost anything. One would think that was a good thing, but not for me.

Did I hate the people standing above us feeling like superior beings? Yes. Would I fight along with these men, even if I didn't believe we would succeed, if I got the chance? Yes. Would I _die_ for this? Probably yes. Then why didn't I? Because of that little kid running towards them, willing to listen to them, to admire them; he needed me. This is the reason why I hated going to the riots, I knew that if I got the chance I would abandon everything to join them. I would abandon even my brother, and that was a risk I would never be willing to take. But what scared me the most is that I knew the blonde man standing above all had the power to convince my brother to join them as well. Maybe he already had. And I wasn't about to let my brother die, because I knew he would, for a hopeless cause; even if I would give my own life for it.

Bassett had always been tiny, and the fact that I wasn't always able to bring food to our house didn't help, which is why I was so afraid to lose him in this crowd. We both were really small if you think about it. We had been thrown into the streets at a young age; a light breeze could easily blow us away. I had never seen so many people before; he could easily get thrown to the ground and stepped on. But I rather not think about that. I prepared myself to run after him and try to find him in the sea of people. But he didn't go in, not today. I looked around for him and found him listening to the blonde man in one of the back corners where I usually stood. But this time he wasn't alone. There was a man next to him, he looked older than most of the students, but I had definitely seen him before. Dark curls fell over his face as he held a bottle to his lips. That was all I could make out about him from this distance. My feet slowly, and involuntary, started making their way towards the two of them, I held my breath wondering what they were talking about.

Once I reluctantly got there my hands found themselves on my brother's shoulders making him look up at me with his usual childish smile. A small smile curled up on my lips as I looked down at him, but this soon disappeared as my eyes looked up at the other man. My grey eyes met his dark blue ones; there was a look of utter indifference in his face. My lips opened to ask the _gentleman's_ name, but I didn't have to.

"Mal, this is Grantaire." My brother mumbled. He never mumbled, not when it came to introducing someone he had just met. He had always loved meeting new people; that was one thing we didn't have in common. If it were up to me I would never meet anyone, I would go to work and then back home; nothing more. I immediately loathed the man for making one of the only shining lights left in this wretched town speak the way he just had.

"A pleasure." I said coldly never taking my eyes off the man in front of me.

He brought up the bottle to his lips once more and made a mocking vow with his head when he brought it back down. "The pleasure is all mine." He looked so drunk I doubted he would remember any of this the next day.

It was hard for me to leave the man's eyes; unlike the rest of him they were beautiful. "May I ask what you two were talking about?" I asked looking down at my brother once more. Maybe I wasn't looking at him, but I could still feel his eyes on me.

Bassett nodded regaining some of his confidence which made me let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. "We were talking about the revolution."

"The revolution that has already failed when it hasn't even started." Grantaire interrupted with a small drunken smirk.

Now I could see what was going on, and I wasn't about to let it happen. I leaned down whispering on my brother's ear. "I want you to go home." He looked up at me with a questioning and disappointed look. "Don't argue." I told him raising an eyebrow challenging him to do so.

The little one sighed in defeat turning to the man who I already knew was a cynic just like myself some months ago. "Au revoir Grantaire," He beamed, the smile that he always wore was back in his face. "I'll see you home, Mal." He said with the same enthusiasm before turning around and running back to the little place we called home.

The cynic smiled at my brother and I immediately wanted to slap him across the face. His eyes made their way back to my face, and the smile slowly turned into a frown when he saw the outraged look on my face.

"What the hell is your problem?" I almost screamed making the other raise his shaky hands in defence and raise his eyebrows as he threw a questioning look my way. "Those are the hopes and dreams of a seven-year-old you are playing with! How can you tell him that all he believes in doesn't exist, that it will fail?!"

Grantaire just laughed which made me even angrier; the only thing I wanted was for him to fall off a bridge. Or better yet, push him down myself. He leaned down so his face was only inches from mine, the alcohol in his breath made me dizzy. "Do you really think they stand a chance?" He asked the smirk still clear on his face.

I didn't answer him, I couldn't. I wanted to believe they did, with all my heart I wanted to, but I didn't. But that didn't mean he could tell a young boy such things; I had been forced to grow up way too soon. I had lost all my hopes for a better future a long time ago, and I wasn't about to let the same happen to my brother.

He laughed even more when he saw I had no answer for him and pulled his face away from mine, allowing me to breath fresh air again. "You kid, are just like me. You don't think there is any hope left on the world, do you?"

I swallowed hard still looking at him. "Hope... Is the only thing my family has left. And that hope resides on that little boy. Who cares if I don't have any left? He has enough for both of us. And maybe even a little for you if you would listen to him."

"Hope? Hope is not enough. Hope will never be enough." He said bringing the bottle up once more but letting it fall to the dirty ground when he realized it was empty. "Actions, that's the only thing that can change anything. Look around you, only a third of these people will maybe do something, and just maybe. Do you really think that's enough?"

"I would do something! I would-" This was what I feared, I almost said it, I almost screamed it for all the world to hear. I was able to stop myself, but the man with the blue eyes and the dark curls already knew what I was going to say.

"Die for the cause?" He asked me with another mocking smirk.

"Yes." I acknowledged quietly. There was no reason for me to hide it.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, examining my face. I knew I would, but I also knew I could never be able to leave my brother. Not for this, and not for anything. I had made that choice a long time ago.

"Well... Not while my brother still needs me. I can't just leave him like that." This earned me another laugh from the cynic.

"I knew it. You are scared." I could see in his face that he wasn't just saying this to annoy me. He truly thought I was scared to die like all the other people in this God forgotten town.

"I am not scared." I almost growled with cold eyes that could pierce through anyone's soul; but I doubted he had one. "I just have more important things at the moment."

"Your brother?" Was his only answer, the smirk was still there and this made me extremely mad.

"Yes!" I barked back. "He is the most important thing in my life!" I was only screaming, but I was ready to bite if I had to.

But that opportunity didn't show itself. The blue eyes examined my face quietly and after some seconds of one of the most unconformable silences I can remember he smiled shaking his head slightly and leaned closer to myself once more. He then said something I would never forget, something that changed my life is so many good and bad ways.

"Well sweetheart. If the little one ever stops being a problem, you know where to find me." He was one of them; I couldn't believe that a cynic, a man who seemed to believe in nothing could be a part of this. "I'll put in a good word for you."

With this he turned on his heel and walked away, but not before throwing a wink my way. I stood there like an idiot, looking at him until I lost him in the crowd. There were so many an emotion rushing through my body it is impossible to remember them all. I didn't move until everyone had left, I shook my head trying to convince myself that he hadn't said that. But most importantly trying to convince myself that my brother wasn't a problem for me, and it was harder than it should have been. My feet carried me home without me knowing it, and just like that, as if it had never happened it was over.

* * *

I snapped back into reality when a ray of sunshine hit my face. _How long had I been on the floor since I finished with the bandage?_ I had no idea. I stood up grabbing my white shirt, which was hanging on the chair along with my other pieces of clothing, and pulled it on. I did the same with the rest of my things and stuffed all the spares in my bag along with my last dress. I wouldn't need much where I was going, I didn't think I would at least. I threw my pouch over my shoulder and picked my cap from the floor. I didn't have a feminine face, but it wasn't masculine either, it was better wearing it to avoid being recognized. I ran a hand through my short dark red hair before pulling it on. I missed my long hair, but I had no use for it so I sold it along with everything else. I took one last look around the room making sure I wasn't forgetting anything, but there was not much to forget. I sighed and walked out the door, all I could do now is hope the man would keep his promise.

The streets were always the same these days. Nothing new, nothing interesting, the same people under the bridges, the same beggars on the street; the same people riding carriages looking down at us as if we were street rats, and we were. It wasn't long before I reached my destination. The Café Musain was a small café in the place Saint-Michel. It was an old building but it had some sort of charm. Perhaps it was what was going inside; perhaps it wasn't, it was impossible to know. I stood outside taking deep breaths, and slowly letting them out; I didn't know if I was ready to go in, but I knew I had to find Grantaire. I took a step forward when I noticed a figure leaving on the door of the building. Dark curls falling over blue eyes, bottle in hand.

"Monsieur Grantaire?" I said standing in front of him forcing myself not to bite my lip. It was impossible to tell if I was a girl from my voice; these couple years of using a lower tone had given my voice a more neutral tone. And I was extremely grateful for it.

The cynic raised his dark blue eyes and looked at me, he clearly didn't recognize me. "Can I help you boy?" He said in an almost bored way.

"Actually you can." I said a little too sure of myself which got his attention. "You said you would put in a good word in for me." I explained raising my eyes so they would meet his.

I could see his eyes widening, he knew who I was; maybe he wasn't that drunk that day at the riot. But that wasn't what impressed me the most. There was actual pain behind his eyes as understanding filled his face as well. He had told me to come when my brother stopped being a problem, and here I was, standing in front of him dressed as a man. He scratched the back of his neck.

"Damn." He muttered and then I knew he knew. He knew my brother was dead.


End file.
